Author Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings (The Messenger Archive Book 1)

by DC Bastien

  "Yes?"

  "Saidhe ran a book, when we bumped into him last."

  "A book?"

  "Gambling."

  "I know what you were implying, I did not know what you... meant."

  "Saidhe reckons the two of them were mates, once. Biann thinks instead they were blood-kin. In name, not in lineage. I thought they shared a female. The Judge knew, but wouldn't say."

  "Interesting."

  "I'm beginning to think Saidhe was correct all along. She's much better at reading Human body-language than I am. I always forget to check the shoulders, I'm too busy listening to the tone of voice."

  "They are, indeed, confusing creatures."

  "And they don't remember we can smell things on them," the Roq added, with a flicker of his tongue out into the air. "Your kind and mine. The creatures on their world with the best senses of smell and taste were considered beasts of burden... and pests."

  "It is strange to consider that such a physically limited species could become the dominant one on their planet."

  "Tool-making. And language. That's what Saidhe said."

  "Yes. That was their evolutionary advantage, as well as the grasp. Still. I would never have thought they would be the apex hunters on their planet."

  "So: no. I don't think the Captain is acting strangely," Loap concluded. "In fact, I don't think anyone is. I worry instead that all of us looking for something, will make us see something... and make us do something that seems. The very conscious search alters our own behaviour."

  "The 'Uncertainty Principle'," Kre said, a light flickering on in her eyes. "And the box of food-meat."

  "Everything's science to you, isn't it?"

  "Science and food, yes."

  "Well, I do hope you have thought of a way to contain our-- ah! There are three younglings approaching. Get to work, woman!"

  "Of course. I shall go for the middle one..."

  ***

  [Ashroe: Oh talk science to me baby.]

  [Sianor: All night long!]

  [Ashroe: I have a large hadron.]

  [Sianor: You are terrible.]

  [Ashroe: Did you see my stalker left a comment?]

  [Sianor: Yes! I thought that was sweet. If barely legible.]

  [Ashroe: English is probably not even her second language.]

  [Sianor: Hmmm probably.]

  [Ashroe: No, you can tell. Some of the phrases. It's word for word translation, not using idiom.]

  [Sianor: Now you're just using technical science to blind me.]

  [Ashroe: Non j'ai seulment un GCSE en Francais]

  [Sianor: Ooooo. Talk dirty to me!]

  [Ashroe: God no, I can about remember how to say 'I have a rabbit' and 'where are the toilets?' So unless you really are a furry or you're into cottaging then we're not going to get down and jiggy with it.]

  [Sianor: Well you could say omelette du fromage and I'd be ready to bend over the table for you.]

  [Ashroe: Miaow.]

  [Sianor: I can't believe it comes back on in two days.]

  [Ashroe: IKR! Well. We can cry over it together. Remember no spoilers til I catch up.]

  [Sianor: OK I promise.]

  [Ashroe: Joking aside, though, I really do appreciate the feedback. Even when there's homonym issues.]

  [Sianor: Yes, me too. I mean, I don't get much, but... every time I get that little notification in my inbox, my heart goes pitter-patter.]

  [Ashroe: I'm sure people used to be better at it, before everything was automated and scripted. Back when you had to go to some effort to say 'good job'. But that could be the rosy-tinted glasses talking.]

  [Sianor: How did it used to be?]

  [Ashroe: Well, it didn't put your story up automatically. You emailed or form-submissioned it, then waited for the archivist to get around to putting it up. And all your feedback was by email only, because the major archives didn't have comment-on-page.]

  [Sianor: You'd think making it easier would mean more people would comment.]

  [Ashroe: Yeah, but there's more of a noise-to-signal ratio now. It was more niche back then, but everyone has high-speed wifi - even on their phones - and geek is chic.]

  [Sianor: I like it when they go all capslock on me. Or shout abuse. That's how I know I've done a good job.]

  [Ashroe: If I didn't make someone furiously angry, or cry, or piss themselves with laughter... I have failed. I have failed!]

  [Sianor: Well, your little stalker friend certainly is angry it's not all up yet!]

  [Ashroe: We have a love-hate relationship, she and I. Even though we only ever talk in the comments at the bottom of my stories.]

  [Sianor: Good. Because I get jealous, you know ;)]

  [Ashroe: Hmmm. And when you're jealous, do you put out more?]

  [Sianor: Try me!]

  ***

  Kre flew the little hopper to the private dock Avery had told them about, paid the fee, and hefted the bag of essentials onto her back. Neither she nor Loap travelled heavy, which was fortunate. She was a bit wary about leaving their vessel with someone who would conceal them, but there was apparently a favour owed that made it safe.

  "I don't think he even noticed there was a Sianar and a Roq together," Loap said, amused. "I think the Hleen and Humans aren't aware of the tensions in the same way our kinds are."

  "I will be able to face the negative reactions from my kind. I have been met with them ever since I renounced my ancestry to bring my learning to people. It is... Roq I am concerned about."

  "I'll smash the scales off anyone who insults you. Although I'd prefer it didn't come to that."

  Lineon was an averagely sized world, one closer to Roq and Sianar space, which meant the greatest population centres were from those two peoples. They did, of course, self-segregate, even to the point of opting for one side of busy streets instead of the other. There were Humans - because Humans spread everywhere - and the majority of the Hleen on the planet worked for the Ur. It was no wonder that the populace were edgy.

  Kre had drawn thick kohl around her eyes, and blood-markings down her cheeks. She was trying to blend in as a regular Sianar, and it was making her twitchy. It had been years since she'd decorated herself like this, and it felt heavy and wrong on her fur. Beside her, Loap had done the same. Instead of the owned markings, though, he'd drawn on precisely the same symbols as Kre, marking them as equal. It was a bold statement, and it would likely alienate many they spoke to, but also mean they passed as a new pair. If you were so adamant as to mark yourself like this, then it wasn't a passing fad, it was a way of life.

  "We should try the black market, first," Loap suggested. "Try to sell one of your prototype devices. The places where people cross the line of legality are where we will find the most unrest."

  "Wise. I have a scrambler which works for a short period to extend the switchover stage between two servers. It only provides a small window of opportunity, and therefore will not allow for huge amounts of damage. If we are selling my equipment, I do not wish to cause huge civil unrest in the process."

  "You will have to do the hawking, I am afraid. I could never understand enough of your work to pass it off as my own."

  ***

  "May I join you?" Avery asked, from a respectful distance away.

  Saidhe looked up from her tablet, then placed it on the couch beside her. "It is your house."

  "And you are one of my guests." A tiny little bow of the head, and a flick of the wrist to indicate the room. "This is the room which you - and you sister - have as your private area. It would be impolite of me to intrude."

  "Only when it's night time. Come in. I don't bite."

  Saidhe watched as Avery took the next couch along. Not so far as to make conversation awkward, but nowhere near her little bubble of personal space. He seemed very aware of the distance between people... except for the Captain, and previously the Judge. She wondered if it was a species-specific thing, or if it was simply that he knew the other two Humans, and therefore felt more comfortable
in their presence.

  "This is a nice place," she said. "I can think of worse ways to spend exile."

  "I have put all of my salary into building this up," he said, with a slightly warmer smile. "I am glad you approve. Once I began, I found I could not stop."

  "Not very decorated, though."

  "I have never really been big on artwork. I like things to be functional, and unobtrusive. Places are places. They should accommodate your tasks."

  "Fair enough."

  Although there was aesthetic value, she could tell. The shapes of the rooms, the lighting, the flowers which were designed to keep the air fresh as well as provide colour and shape. Utility had a beauty all of its own. Biann would find this place dull, she knew. Her sister would spare no time in making this really feel like it was owned, but Avery's desire for functionality appealed to her.

  "I did make it a little too large for one person, though. The fact that six of us have lived here reasonably comfortably shows me the error of my ways."

  "Were you planning on raising children here?"

  "Children? Me? God, no. I love them from afar... I have no interest in rearing my own."

  "Same. Although I want Biann to have a nice little brood, so I can be a good auntie."

  "Biann would make a good parent. She's very... motherly. Which is not to say I think you wouldn't be maternal, but I think it might drain you, where it would recharge her."

  That was an interesting assessment. Saidhe pondered it for a moment, before she had to nod. "You're right. I'd look after any offspring of mine, but I'd still want some private space. Biann seems to thrive in groups, and I like to watch her doing it."

  "If we were all alike, the universe would be dull."

  Still. This place had three bedrooms. One spare room you might consider to be a contingency. Two spare rooms... she wasn't sure what that implied.

  "You know he'd never settle, don't you?" she asked, head to one side in a little jangle of bows and charms.

  "Of course. Neither would I."

  Before she could find the right response to that, Avery had slipped from the couch. No doubt he would go back to the atrium. She was certain he wouldn't go aboard the Messenger to work with Vadim and her sister.

  ***

  "We are new to Lineon," Loap told the marketeer.

  "I can tell," the Human snapped back. "We're not interested in things that could get us into trouble."

  "It's a scientific curiosity, for teaching children, nothing more," Kre said, her patience clearly worn. Her long, furry tail was swishing agitatedly, brushing against the shop-front. "Perhaps you could tell us who might be interested?"

  "Off-world. There's planets not so far under... surveillance. And places not on planets. Maybe you'd find your ilk there."

  "Our 'ilk'?" Loap asked. He didn't like the implication one bit.

  "Yes. Deviants. Don't think I don't know what I'm seeing! Either you're in league and entrapping people, or you're just... too far gone on the pipe to care."

  "You assume that because we have scientific advancements for sale, that we are addicted to illegal narcotics?" The Roq was very offended now. Even the hand on his shoulder wasn't calming him down.

  "Look, either buy something, or get the hell out of the way of paying customers. I don't care what you smoke, or who you screw, but I'm running a business and you're losing me custom."

  "So you would call the Ur-Enforcers over a simple business offer?" Kre asked. Her gadget was by no means illegal, not to own. To use in certain ways, perhaps. Most Ur-Enforcers would give them a warning about pushing goods that could encourage criminal activity, but that would be the end of it.

  The shop-keeper would be in no trouble, though. No one would write either party up - for the paperwork if nothing else - and there would be no suspicion that the seller was in the wrong. No loss of custom, no loss of face. So the sudden blanching, the draining of blood from his head was telling.

  "Is there a reason you would not want the Ur-Enforcers here?" Kre asked, her voice smooth and level.

  "I don't want trouble. I just want you to go."

  "We want to know why everyone in this sector is acting so strangely," Loap pushed.

  "Just... if I tell you some information, will you leave and never say it came from me?" The Human was wringing his hands, looking left and right. No one was obviously eavesdropping, but he clearly thought they might.

  Kre nodded. The Human jotted something hastily down, and then hissed a 'Shoo' at them.

  "May you find plenty of paying customers," Loap said, as kindly as he could.

  When they had walked for far enough, Kre opened her paw around the folded-up note. On it, jotted in sloppy penmanship using one of the traders' argots, were the words: 'Go to the fountain three blocks over at night-fall'.

  "It could be a trap," Loap said, scratching at the back of his head.

  "It could be. But it's the best intelligence we've come across so far."

  "I am hungry. It is many hours until night-fall. I believe we should seek to refresh ourselves in case this encounter is lengthy or... difficult."

  "Agreed. We may need to go to the Human quarter to find somewhere that will cater to us both, however."

  "A pity. Humans can never cook birst to save their lives. I will just have to order something simpler."

  ***

  Chapter Seventeen - Mission: Subversion

  [Ashroe: Ugh.]

  [Sianor: What's wrong?]

  [Ashroe: I know I shouldn't do it, but... I keep looking at the hit-counter.]

  [Sianor: Why shouldn't you do that? I do that.]

  [Ashroe: It's bad for me. I get obsessive.]

  [Sianor: But... it's there to show you how much people love you!]

  [Ashroe: I know that, deep down, somehow, somewhere. I do.]

  [Sianor: ...]

  [Ashroe: Yeah, I know. But.]

  [Sianor: But what, hun?]

  [Ashroe: But... I keep looking at the hit counter, and the kudos, and then the lack of comments, and I get... sad. I worry if... I worry if the hits are people looking but giving up because they find it boring, or long-winded, or... or...!]

  [Sianor: Sweetie, no! Stop!]

  [Ashroe: I told you, it's bad for me. Just because I've been doing this for years doesn't mean I don't have a fragile artist's soul, same as everyone else does.]

  [Sianor: Oh honey, no. Please don't. Those little thumbs up you get? The way the counter goes up by an exponentially larger number each day? People are liking it.]

  [Ashroe: Yeah, but... would it kill them to say so? I mean... just a couple of words. I know it would be too much to expect real, detailed commentary, but... I do this for love. They don't pay me. So a compliment is free, but... would make me feel less insecure about my skills.]

  [Sianor: :(]

  [Ashroe: I'll... sorry. I'll stop obsessing about it.]

  [Sianor: You won't, you just won't mention it.]

  [Ashroe: Dang. You know me too well.]

  ***

  Kre and Loap arrived shortly after sunset, not wanting to be too obvious. Waiting had been the hardest part. After their meal and idle conversation (with Kre's scanner working in her backpack all along) they'd been left with a few hours to kill.

  Although it would have been Kre's idea of heaven, it wouldn't be in-keeping with their alter egos to visit the various religious temples of all species and faiths. Instead, they'd gone to an open-air betting ring, laying small wagers on the mechanised animal fights. Kre had spent more time analysing the design flaws than cheering on the 'blood' sport, because without the actual tang of blood in the air, it seemed more like a mockery of the ancient tradition.

  "This could be a trap," Loap repeated. "It would be a very obvious trap."

  "I know," she answered. "But we have nothing else to do, save for commit a crime and wait to be arrested. We can always claim we were still looking for buyers. Our goods are not illegal, merely some of the possible uses of them."

  "I
f someone wishes to find a reason to persecute us, though, the reality is they could find offence with our tone, before we touch on our faked papers and grey-market goods."

  By the fountain, a lone Human was tossing a credit brick up, catching it, and tossing it again. He was humming something cheery to himself, something that never quite resolved into a recogniseable tune. There were no other people easily seen in the area, and Kre didn't spot any tell-tale glints of glass or metal from on high. If it was a suitably funded sniper or snooper, she would not be able to spot them, though.

  "I will take point," she suggested, and strode out. Perhaps she should have modified her pace to seem more casual and less business-like, but by the time that thought had occurred to her, she was already too far into her stride to change it.

  "Nice evening," the Human said, not looking up from his apparently engrossing activity.

  "So far it has been," the Sianar replied.